A Smattering of Rouge
by RainyGirl1978
Summary: WINNER: Judge's Choice for the Beautiful Bellies Contest. Summary: Amidst the turmoil of Nazi occupied France, Bella meets a charming American and is forced to decide between survival and true love. AH E/B
1. Chapter 1

**WINNER: Judge's Choice for the Beautiful Bellies Contest**

Title: A Smattering of Rouge  
>Penname: RainyGirl1978<br>Betas: LJ Summers, Bratty-Vamp, Radar1230  
>Prompt and picture used: Written Prompt #5, Picture #1<br>Characters/pairing: Bella/Edward  
>Genre: RomanceDrama  
>Word Count: 22,005 – not including the heading, author's note, terms, or sources.<br>Rating: M  
>Summary: Amidst the turmoil of Nazi occupied France, Bella meets a charming American and is forced to decide between survival and true love.<p>

**A Smattering of Rouge**

Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: ****Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

**Warning: **This story contains minor violence. It is rated M for mature themes and is not intended for people under the age of 18.

~~ 0 ~~

_A small country lane, outside of Marseille, France, August 1943._

I pedaled Maman's bicycle steadily over the dusty road, my plain black skirt sticking to the perspiration on my legs. The bright Provence sun beat down; I could feel it burning my scalp through my dark hair. As I pulled to a stop in a cloud of dust in front of the Dubois' home, I looked up to see the cheery white shutters thrown open, deceitfully carefree and breezy, and the window boxes full of red poppies. The façade, so carefully maintained. Life as usual, I thought, shaking my head.

I took my woven basket of grapes and hooked it over my elbow, carrying it up the path and climbed the steps of the old country home. Wiping my brow, I looked over to see large eyes, waist high, peering from the corner of an open window. The sounds of feet scampering across the floors made me smile as I knocked on the door.

Madame Dubois opened it before I even finished rapping. Her house dress hung from her body a little too loosely. "Ahh, Bella. It is so lovely to see you," she exclaimed, grasping my shoulders tightly and kissing me, first one cheek, then the other. "You are so beautiful. When will some handsome man make you his wife?"

I laughed at her persistence. I was eighteen and never had a beau and she always lamented the fact. But at times like these, it was the least of my concerns. "It's lovely to see you as well. How is your family?" I asked as she ushered me into the airy house. My feet made dull thuds against the marble as she led me to the scant kitchen.

"Monsieur Dubois is away, of course," she said and then skillfully attempted to divert my attention, though there was little point, Papa had been in the Resistance as well. "But we are all well as you can see," she said a bit breathlessly, gesturing to her children with their ashen cheeks and sunken eyes.

"You all look well," I said in turn, my heart heavy for these poor boys with whom I would in all probability have much in common. "Maman sends these grapes for you if you have any eggs to spare," I said with a smile. I made sure not to let my desperation show.

Her eyes crinkled, "Well, I don't know. We haven't many left but I suppose I could give you a few."

"That would be lovely. Is there anything else you have for trade?"

"I do have a bit of butter," she said, pushing a strand of lank hair behind her ear.

_Oh what I wouldn't give for butter! _

"But could you possibly help me with the boys for a morning this week while I go into town for the rations?"

A full morning of looking after her children would be a sacrifice indeed. Maman needed me at home. There was much work to be done there. But I could also imagine the look in her eyes if I brought home some smooth, creamy butter. How long had it been?

"Yes, of course. I'd love to help you with the boys."

And so with two more kisses to my cheeks and another of Madame Dubois' well intentioned meddling attempts into my chances at love, I was off on my bicycle once again, my basket full of treasures.

"Maman!" I cried as I barreled through the door, not even stopping to knock the dirt from my shoes or wipe the sweat that was dripping down my face. "You'll never guess what I got from Madame Dubois," I laughed breathlessly, excited to give her the eggs and butter. But my mother wasn't in the kitchen as I expected. I could hear her voice, speaking almost in a sing-song manner coming from the sitting room and I furrowed my brow, still breathing heavily from my trip home in the oppressive heat.

I set my basket on the table and peeked around the corner to see my two sisters: Angela staring balefully out the window and Alice smiling and batting her eyelashes. My mother sat across from them, ridiculously fawning over some young man. I turned to enter the room and as I did so, my frizzy hair caught a gust of wind, blowing across my eyes and sticking to my wet face. I couldn't see and I stumbled, twisting my ankle and falling gracelessly into a heap.

"Aye!" I cried, swiping desperately at my hair and scrambling to my knees.

In an instant, a very masculine hand shot into my field of vision. and I looked up to see the most beautiful man I had ever seen kneeling down and taking my hot, sticky hand, before lifting me to my feet as my already overheated face flamed in mortification.

"Are you alright?" he asked in an American accent, seeming genuinely concerned as his gaze traveled down my body to my wobbling feet.

I felt terribly exposed and was completely at a loss for words. My parched mouth hung open as I tried desperately to come up with a reply – any reply. But his green gaze held me immobile.

He looked confused… or amused. I couldn't tell.

"Isabella, this is Edward. He will be joining us for dinner. Please go wash for the meal, chérie."

I felt my cheeks burn as I nodded at him and managed a quiet, "Thank you," then ran to clean up.

I could hear my mother and Alice laughing joyously as I scrubbed my face. The dust from the road had clung to my damp skin, making a terrible mess. I ran a comb through my wild hair and pinned half of it up, away from my face. Then I changed into a fresh dress, one of my nice ones from before the war, since we had company. I tried not to think about Edward and his beauty, the likes of which I had never seen. It made me feel insignificant at best and hopelessly ugly at worst. By the looks of things when I had come home, it appeared as though Alice might be receiving more company in the coming days.

I came down the stairs, studiously avoiding the sitting room, and went into the kitchen. Maman was unloading my basket.

"Isabella, you got some butter!" she exclaimed.

"I thought you would," I began but she continued.

"Wonderful, chérie. What perfect timing, with our guest here!"

I frowned. I didn't particularly want to spend an entire morning watching Madame Dubois' boys so my sister's beau could have some butter to soften his bread. I could still hear her chattering and giggling like a fool in the other room.

As we sat down to dinner, I kept my eyes averted from Edward's face. The pang I felt at Alice's infatuation was irrational. I was much too plain to catch the attention of a man such as him. I daydreamed about what it must be like to be beautiful and have men falling at your feet as Alice did every day.

Before long I realized that her enthusiastic chatter had quieted and Maman was politely keeping the conversation going, albeit at a much more leisurely pace than before. I chanced a glance at the handsome American and felt my stomach jump as I saw his gaze was on me. I felt my cheeks burn and watched in amazement as he ducked his eyes and I saw a blush rise on his face as well. I looked over to Alice and Maman who were also watching me; Alice with a shrug and a smile and Maman with knowing eyes.

I blinked and froze. _What was going on?_ I glanced at Edward; his lashes were fanned against his cheeks. But then he slowly looked up at me again and smiled. A small, shy smile that made my insides tremble.

"Isabella," Maman began. "You were not here when I told your sisters how I met Edward. You see I had just gotten through the line at the charcuterie and I had been able to get more than I had thought I would. It was all very heavy and I kept dropping the ham and Edward happened along. He was so kind to help me carry everything home, I just had to have him stay for dinner."

"Of course," I said.

Then she turned her attention back to our guest. "Isabella has always wanted to see America."

I laughed dismissively. "Yes, it seems like it would be very wonderful but I don't think that would ever happen, Maman."

"Why not?" Edward spoke up. "You would love it, I'm sure. If you want to go, you should go."

I shrugged. I supposed he couldn't have understood my position. "Maybe someday," I mumbled, pushing a small piece of bread around my plate, knowing it would never be.

"What are you doing in France?" I asked, garnering a sharp look from Maman. I hadn't meant to sound rude.

But he simply smiled and replied, "I am interested in this great country and came to live and meet people."

I hummed, mulling that over. It seemed slightly evasive. "How nice to have that freedom to go where you please."

"Isabella," he said. I met his eyes, surprised at the tenderness his voice held. "You won't always be so burdened."

What did he know of my burdens? And yet, how had he seen right through me? I watched him intently, biting the corner of my lip in thought before I realized that all eyes were on us.

Maman chose that moment to embarrass me thoroughly. "Edward, do you have a girl at home?"

"Umm, no, I don't Madame," he said, that pink tint returning to his cheeks.

"Ahh," she said. "My girls have no beaux, either. But they are all good Catholic girls. We raised them well and they will make good wives for the lucky men who win their affections."

Angela choked on her bread and I suddenly became very interested in the lace tablecloth.

There could be no doubt what Maman meant by us being "good Catholic girls." Her parents emigrated from Italy and we were staunchly faithful. It was true that my sisters and I had been ingrained with the ideal that we would remain virgins until we were married – and we had done so. But I couldn't believe her audacity to announce it so plainly over dinner. Or maybe I could. This was my mother, after all.

Edward cleared his throat a little and said politely, "Yes, I'm sure they will."

Maman smiled broadly and sighed. "Thank you for staying for dinner, Edward," she said. "I'm sure you need to get going before it is too late."

Edward began to gather his dishes and utensils but Maman waved him off.

"Oh no, we will take care of this. Isabella will walk you down the lane, won't you, chérie?"

At her request, I nearly tripped as I stepped away from my chair.

"Euuuh… Yes, of course," I said, my heart thrumming. I fidgeted while waiting for Edward to say goodbye to my mother and sisters. Angela looked relieved to be released from having to entertain. Alice winked at me when his back was turned. I guess she hadn't been too smitten with him after all.

I followed him out the door and he waited, closing it after me.

"You really don't need to walk me," he said with a smile.

"It's no trouble. Thank you for staying for dinner."

He laughed, shaking his head. "I should be thanking you. It's nice to have dinner with such a lovely woman."

I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. "Yes, well my mother and sisters are very beautiful."

"Yes, they are, though, I wasn't referring to them," he said, shuffling his feet a bit as we walked.

I didn't know what to say to that so I said nothing, the symphony of cicadas and the sounds of our feet on the path the only things to be heard.

"Is it just you ladies here?" he asked as we approached the end of the lane.

I looked to my feet. "Euhh, yes. My Papa died last year."

"Oh, Isabella, I'm so sorry," he said, stopping and turning to me. His eyes were so sad as he gently touched my elbow.

I shook my head. "Thank you, but we are fine."

"Yes, you must be very strong," he said as we stood looking at each other.

After a few moments, I took a deep breath, trying to quell the butterflies in my stomach. "You should go. You don't want to be caught out after curfew," I reminded him.

One corner of his mouth turned up and he nodded. "May I see you again, Isabella?"

I looked up at his earnest eyes. I had no idea how anything could ever work between us. But something in me wanted to see him again. So I agreed immediately. "Yes, I would like that very much. And please, call me Bella."

He smiled and took my hand, lifting it to his lips. "_Enchanté_, Bella," he murmured against my knuckles. Then he placed a soft kiss there, sending tingles up my arm.

He let my hand go and it glided back to my side. I said nothing as he smiled and walked away down the road, the wind ruffling his bronze hair.

When I walked back into the house, Maman and Alice descended on me.

"What happened, chérie? What did he say?"

"Oh, he's so handsome, Bella!"

"I knew as soon as I saw him that I had to entice him with one of my girls."

"Bella, did you see how he looked at you?"

I didn't even know where to begin. "He… he asked to see me again but…"

I was cut off with high pitched squealing coming from my sister. My mother's face was lit up by her smile.

"Oh, Bella! How exciting! Wait, you said yes, didn't you? You did say yes?" Alice was jumping up and down in front of me, clasping her hands together in childlike glee.

"Wait a minute, Alice. I thought you liked him," I blinked repeatedly, putting my hands on my hips.

"Oh Bella, he is very beautiful and a fine man to be sure, but the way you two looked at each other, I'm not getting in the way of that," she said winking and kissing my cheek enthusiastically. "Anyway, tell me you agreed to see him because if not I'll have to hit you right now," she threatened. I knew she was serious.

"Alright, alright. I said yes." I fought the creeping smile I could feel overtaking my face but it was no use and my cheeks ached from it.

Maman was just standing there watching me with a knowing look and I shook my head and left to go to my room, the sound of laughter and squealing following me all the way.

That night Angela came to my room and laid her head on my pillow next to mine to talk, as we often did. She smiled into my eyes, "You like him." Angela had always been quiet. To anyone else, she seemed removed and detached. But really, she was observant, seeing right to the heart of things.

I breathed deeply. "Yes, I do." My voice shook.

"I'm so glad it was you," she said, giggling.

I frowned at her quizzically.

"Oh, he is very nice. Just not for me," she reassured me, squeezing my hand. "I wish you every happiness."

Laughing, I said, "Well, who knows if he will even come back."

"He will."

We fell asleep together laughing and dreaming about what America must be like, wondering if all the young men were as handsome as Edward.

Edward was true to his word. He did come calling again. And again. And again. He was always the perfect gentleman. He was thoughtful and considerate and when I was with him, somehow the concerns of the war seemed to melt away. Late at night when I lay in my bed, I allowed myself to imagine what it might be like to be far away from all these troubles. Maybe I'd be living in America with Edward. Maybe we'd be married and have children of our own and we would never have to stand in another rationing line again.

But more often than not something happened to bring me back to the cold realities of my life, reminding me that this fantasy would never be.

~~ 0 ~~

Edward knocked on the door. He had come to walk me to the cinema. We spent much of our time walking. Since gasoline was rationed, we had no working automobile. Occasionally we took bicycles but I hated to leave Maman with no form of transportation if she needed to get out. So Edward and I walked and enjoyed each other's company, talking and laughing.

But the closer we got to town, the more it was obvious that the relative detachment we enjoyed from the troubles by living in the country was a flimsy deception. Nazi guards stood on street corners. They casually sat smoking, enjoying the bounty of Provence at sidewalk cafés. They flaunted their wealth and control, patronizing businesses. Vile propaganda plastered nearly every wall and window, displaying distorted images of hooked noses and hairy bodies. It simultaneously infuriated me and made me ill.

Edward chatted companionably, speaking of his parents, his brother, Jasper, his friends, his home in New York, and his dog. This made me laugh and shake my head a little. I didn't know he had a dog, but he told me all about her and how much he missed taking her for walks and playing with her in the park.

I realized he was trying to distract me from the stresses of the occupation and I smiled fondly, squeezing his hand, our arms brushing against each other as we walked.

"I'd love to take you there," he said.

"That would be lovely."

"So maybe, after the war…"

I sighed and studied the cobblestones under our feet. "Yeah… maybe."

He stopped in the path and I looked up. Smiling sadly, he cupped my cheek. "Come here," he said pulling me into a small winding alley. He pulled me close and held my face in his large hands. "It will happen, Bella. The war can't go on forever." Then speaking again in a whisper, closer to my face, "and when that happens…" he trailed off.

My breath caught in my throat as I understood his meaning. He leaned in further and placed one small kiss against my lips then pulled away, a bright smile on his face.

He took my hand once again and led me out of the alley and through the streets to the cinema, one of the only sources of entertainment left that we had available to us. He paid for our tickets and we entered the theatre to see _La Règle du jeu._ The room was full and there were, _bien sur_, the ever-present guards at the back.

The lights dimmed and the projector began playing the German newsreels, the only sanctioned source of current events. We all knew we were only receiving the information they wanted us to hear so most French families huddled around their radios to hear the news broadcasted in by the Allies. Being forced to watch the doctored news was infuriating. It was only moments before many in the audience began stomping their feet and hissing in protest. A clamor erupted at the back: shouts from the Nazi guards.

Edward and I sat frozen, not wanting to incur their anger as the house lights flipped on. Guards stormed the aisles, shouting and grabbing movie patrons indiscriminately and hauling them off. Curses and shrieks filled the auditorium as batons flew and bodies stumbled.

The commotion died down and I released the breath I'd been holding as they left the theatre. I hadn't realized that there was still one officer present till I was yanked from my seat by my arm, despite our attempts to stay invisible. The guard began shouting at me in German, but I could not understand him.

"_Je ne parle pas allemand! Je ne parle pas allemand!_" I cried. But he yelled all the more, his menacing steel blue eyes terrifying me, his hard fingers digging into my flesh.

In an instant, Edward was by my side. He was speaking German, his tone pleading as he pulled money from his pockets, shoving it toward the officer.

I began shaking my head, tears threatening my eyes. _Please God, please get us out of this_, I prayed. I couldn't contemplate Edward getting into trouble on my account.

In what I could only imagine was an act of God, the officer released me, taking Edward's proffered money and storming from the room.

I released a shaky breath and gripped the back of the seat next to me to keep from falling over right there in the aisle.

We never saw the movie that day. Our walk home was quiet. I fought the onslaught of emotions threatening to take over me. Occasionally, a silent tear streamed down my face and I tried to wipe it away without Edward noticing, but he did. We walked along the canal, Edward with his hands shoved in his pockets, me kneading my skirt in an overflow of nervous energy needing a physical outlet.

We passed under a tree and Edward stopped me there, grasping my arms, his hands shaking a bit, and looking determinedly into my eyes. "I will take care of you, Bella. I promise you that." The tears overflowed my eyes and he crushed me to his chest. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm down. He smelled amazing; of earth and sweat and man.

Papa had made similar promises. I didn't doubt Edward's sincerity, but this war was so much bigger than any one of us and I knew that promises were just words. Well-intentioned, but still just words.

"I promise, Bella. I will make you safe," Edward insisted, his strong arms holding me tightly.

I wished I could believe him.

In the weeks following, Edward and I didn't speak of what happened in the cinema again, nor did we attempt to see another movie.

He spent a lot of time visiting with my family, eating meals with us, and helping out with the workload. Occasionally, he brought gifts of food or provisions. He never accepted my arguments that he needed to keep them for himself, so I stopped trying.

~~ 0 ~~

One evening after dinner, Edward and I walked out to the vineyard together. We sat in the tall grass on the edge of the vines that were turning beautiful shades of red and gold with the autumn.

I decided to ask him the question that had been burning at the back of my mind. "Edward, what are you really doing in France?"

He looked across the vineyard, then back at me. "I'm a war correspondent for _Life_ Magazine," he said. "I'm documenting and photographing what life is like in the country under the occupation."

I furrowed my brow. Was he using us? I didn't think so. "So… this…" I said, gesturing between us.

"Oh, no, Bella, no. Please believe me. This," he said, gesturing as I had, "is real. I would never exploit you."

I studied him for a moment. I believed him. I didn't think he could ever lie to me.

"So, what happened to your Papa, really?" he asked.

I dropped my eyes and took a deep breath. He trusted me with his secret, I knew I could trust him with mine. "He was executed for being a part of the Resistance."

"Oh, Bella, I am so sorry," he breathed, drawing me to his chest for a few moments till I pulled away.

"I want it to be done," I said, despairing that it might never be.

His eyes glowed green in the waning sunlight as he looked at me, a sad smile on his beautiful face. "I know," he said simply.

The gentle breeze ruffled our hair and I breathed deeply, falling back in the grass and looking up at the sky.

"Tell me your dreams," he said softly. "If you could have anything you wanted and there was no war, what would you do?" He asked as he laid beside me, propping himself on his arm and looking down at me.

I laughed humorlessly, shaking my head. _What did I want?_ I sighed and spoke my deepest desire, at least at the moment, "I want chocolate," I said dreamily.

His laugh was rich and full and I couldn't help but join in.

"Chocolate?" he asked incredulously.

"Mmm, yes. It would be divine."

He laughed again. "Okay, anything else?" he asked with a smile.

I studied the wispy clouds as they drifted in the blue sky. "I really just want a little home in a safe place for my family and enough food that we're never hungry again."

He didn't say anything as I watched the clouds slowly change into different shapes. "What about you, Edward?" I asked turning to see his face, full of some intent emotion. "What do you want? What will you do when the war is over?"

"I want to be an accomplished and respected journalist." Then he looked at me, his gaze held mine and burned. "I want a wife to love. I want children to raise."

I took in a shaky breath at his sincerity and the intense gleam in his eyes.

"Bella," he said softly, his breath washing over my face. "How would you like that little home of yours to be in America?"

My eyes welled with tears that leaked out the corners and ran back into my hair. "Well, you know I've always wanted to see America," I said through the lump in my throat.

I had never seen such a beautiful smile as what overtook Edward's face at my answer. He leaned down, and brushed his lips against mine, softly, tentatively. I reached up to touch his cheek and his kiss became bolder, more fervent. I responded, giving back what he gave, moving my lips in foreign ways that made my body tingle and ache for more. I brought my other hand up and tangled it in his hair, my shoulders hunching, my stomach contracting.

He groaned and ran his tongue along my lower lip. I gasped in pleasant surprise and when my mouth fell open, he slowly but determinedly slid his tongue against mine, his hand encircling my waist, his weight pressing down on me.

He pulled just a breath away. "I love you, Bella," he said and then returned to me again, not allowing any verbal response.

More tears leaked from my eyes. I knew I loved him. I don't know when I had realized it but somewhere along the way it had grown. It had become this force of its own, fighting with me for some kind of release. I wanted to give him my whole heart and I wasn't sure if the choice was mine to make anymore as my heart seemed to be giving itself of its own volition. But it scared me because I didn't know when or if this war would ever end or if we would still be standing at its conclusion.

He broke away with labored breath, dropping his forehead to my chest, then turned to the side, his ear resting over my thundering heart.

"We should stop," he said as I ran my fingers through his hair.

But I didn't want to stop. Edward was good, Edward was right. The rest was hardship and despair.

That night after I said goodnight to him and walked back into the house, Maman watched me carefully, a twinkle in her eye. I know she noticed the rosy glow that was certainly there from my time with Edward.

I put on my night dress and brushed my hair then climbed into bed. I looked out at the stars, touched my lips, and thought about how his lips had felt against mine, his hands against my body.

There was a quiet knock on my door and Maman came into my room, sitting next to me on my bed. She sat quietly for a few moments, looking into the night sky with me.

"Oh chérie, I know that look on your face."

"What look?"

"The one that tells me you're in love," she sighed. "I had the same look with your father."

I couldn't deny her words and she knew it.

"You hold on to that one, Bella. He's a good man and he loves you."

"Maman, it's just not fair. How can we do anything with the war?"

"It will all work out. And I am hopeful that if things get too bad, he will take you away to America," she said as she stroked my hair tenderly.

"I could never leave you, we will stay together," I said shaking my head. I couldn't leave my family.

"Don't worry about it, chérie. I just want you taken care of."

Arguing was useless. So I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cheek. We stayed like that for a few more moments before she rose from the bed and bid me goodnight.

~~ 0 ~~

As the months cooled and winter approached, no more crops were harvested and it became increasingly difficult to get food. Our rations only got us so far. We took in our lifelong friends, Dr. Rosenberg, who had also been our family's physician, and his wife. Since the Nazis had begun arresting Jews in Marseille, they had traveled from house to house, not wanting to overstay their welcome. Maman had insisted they come to stay with us, but that meant there was even less food to go around and more danger for our family. But how could we turn out our dear friends?

It was also difficult to get enough fuel to stay warm. By November, we had used all the extra wood and we scavenged the grounds for twigs and anything we could burn. We wore layers and layers of clothing to compensate for the lack of heat. Unfortunately, this made them wear thin more quickly than usual.

One afternoon, when my mother and sisters were out visiting with a friend and the Rosenbergs were napping in their room, Edward brought over a basket of food, as he did when he was able. He stood in the kitchen with me as I unpacked the basket. When I got to the bottom, a shiny wrapper caught my attention. I picked it up and inspected it more closely.

"Chocolate! Edward!" I nearly squealed.

He wore a wide grin and shrugged his shoulders. "I thought you might like it," he said quietly.

"Like it? I can't believe you… How did you get this?" I didn't think you could get chocolate anywhere but the black market.

"It doesn't matter. I wanted to get it for you is all."

I ripped open a corner and took a bite of the luscious, creamy chocolate. "Mmmm…"

His eyes darkened and he walked over to me as I wrapped up the treasure to save the rest for later. "You got a little bit on you," he said.

"Where?" I asked, reaching up to wipe at my face, but he stopped my hand.

He bent over slowly and softly kissed the corner of my mouth, his tongue lightly licking the sensitive skin there.

A shiver ran through me and my eyes fell closed. His hands held both my wrists in between our bodies as he slowly pulled back, his breath washing over my mouth. I tilted my chin up at the loss of contact and he came back to me, running his hands up my arms, over my shoulders and held my neck as he kissed me leisurely and thoroughly. I arched my back and pressed my body into his, running my hands up his back and suddenly he stepped away. I attempted to follow, but he held me in place by my shoulders.

"I don't want to stop doing that," he said roughly, his cheeks flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Then don't," I whispered.

"That's exactly why I need to," he said.

I wanted to lose myself in him. He was the only good thing in my life. But he was always stopping things whenever he thought we were going too far. He said he was trying to protect me, but I knew he wanted me. I could feel it when he touched me, when he kissed me. And it made me want him all the more.

Just then a sharp rap sounded at the door and Edward dropped his hands from my shoulders. I went to see who it was and when I opened the door, I was startled to see a Nazi officer standing there.

My thoughts went immediately to Dr. and Madame Rosenberg, asleep and unaware in their room. _Please stay upstairs_, I silently pleaded. If they were to come down and the officer even suspected, he could demand their paperwork and we would all suffer the consequences.

"Good afternoon, mademoiselle," he said, a sinister leer on his face. I heard Edward approach behind me and saw the man's eyes flicker to him, then back to me. "Do you have any goods you might share with me?"

The request was innocuous in itself, but I knew the underlying threat he posed. I wracked my brain for something I could give him that would be sufficient but not so much that we would have nothing to eat. "I have some preserves I could give you," I said, my voice managing not to crack.

"I think you have something else, don't you?" his cold eyes cut through me and I felt dirty.

"I… I could give you some wine," I said.

"Hmm, yes, that is more like it. I'll just come in and wait."

My chest constricted and I swallowed hard. "Yes, of course, come right in and make yourself at home. I will be right back."

He passed me as he entered, a self-satisfied smirk on his sharp face. He raised an eyebrow at Edward and settled himself in a chair by the stove.

I ran to the cellar and got two bottles of wine, then a jar of preserves. I moved as quickly as I could, wanting to get him out of the house before disaster occurred. I returned to the sitting room, where Edward still stood guard, watching the officer.

"Here you are, monsieur. I hope you will like it."

"Ahh, yes. I am certain I will. I do very much enjoy France's hospitable bounty," he said, running his eyes up and down my body.

I stepped back and Edward placed a hand on my shoulder, earning another smirk from the officer as he rose to take his leave. When the door closed behind him, I all but collapsed into Edward's chest. He ran soothing circles over my back as my breathing returned to normal.

"I don't like you being alone here," he rasped.

"I'm not really alone," I irrationally tried to reassure him, despite my earlier anxiety over our guests being discovered.

"Do you really think the Rosenbergs would be able to help you?" he scoffed.

I trembled in his embrace and squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to think about all the things that could have happened if Edward had not been there.

~~ 0 ~~

**A/N: Let me know what you think! **

**Terms****:**

Maman: Mom, Mama, Mommy, Mother

Resistance: The national grassroots movement in WWII occupied France, fighting against the Nazis and the Vichy regime.

Chérie: Sweetheart, darling, dear.

Euh: The French version of uhh or umm. It sounds close to the "oo" sound in book.

Enchanté: Delighted, Enchanted, Pleased to meet you.

Bien sur: Of course.

Je ne parle pas allemand: I don't speak German.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: ****Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

**Warning: **This story contains minor violence. It is rated M for mature themes and is not intended for people under the age of 18.

~~ 0 ~~

I was bringing clean blankets upstairs to make beds when I heard Angela coughing in the room that she and Maman were sharing, we had done some rearranging when the Rosenbergs had come to live with us.

My sister had had a lingering cough for a while but this was much stronger. I dropped the blankets on Alice's bed and went to see if Angela was okay. She was curled in a ball under her covers, shaking and coughing.

"Angela?" I asked, rushing to her and feeling her fevered brow.

When she tried to speak, her teeth chattered, though a sheen of perspiration lay on her forehead.

I called for Maman, who came running. She lay her hand on Angela's head and I went to dampen some cloths.

When I returned, Maman took the cloths and waved me off. "Go, make the beds. It'll be fine," she said, smiling at me.

I wanted to stay and help but there was little point. So I set about to finish my duties around the house.

Later, as I was passing her room, Dr. Rosenberg came out.

I looked expectantly up into his weathered face and tired eyes. He heaved a sigh.

"I believe she has pneumonia," he said quietly.

"Well, that's… what can we do for her?" I asked, praying that there was something.

He placed his warm hand on my shoulder and gave me a small smile. "Unfortunately, with no medicines to be had, all we can do is keep her resting and give her fluids and pray."

My heart sank. I wished there was something more I could do. I needed to feel like we had some control over our lives.

He squeezed my shoulder and reassured me kindly. "We hope for the best."

That night, Alice and I laid in our beds and stared at the ceiling in the darkness.

"It's so terrible, Bella," she lamented to me, as we listened to the retching from the other room.

Angry tears pricked my eyes. Anger at our situation, that we could not help her. Anger that it was all so unnecessary. "I know."

There was nothing more I could say.

Over the next days, Angela's condition worsened. Nothing we did seemed to help her as her fevered body contorted with coughing.

Edward visited and expressed his concern but he was powerless as the rest of us.

Maman was strong. She carried on, faithfully taking care of Angela, never showing weakness, always with a sunny disposition.

But one night, I woke to use the toilet and as I returned to my room I could hear Maman's desperate prayers for her girl. I peeked into the partially open doorway and saw her on her knees by Angela's bedside. She rocked back and forth gently, supplicating for Angela's restoration. After a few moments she broke into deep wracking sobs that echoed through the room and she laid her face on the bedside.

I couldn't witness her despair and do nothing, so I went to her side, kneeling and taking her in my arms.

After her tears subsided, she looked me full in the eye and said, "You have to get out of here, chérie. You have to get out of Europe."

"I'm not leaving you, Maman. And there is no way I'd be able."

"Your Edward will take care of you."

"I can't… he can't… he's committed to staying here through the war. He can't leave and I certainly can't expect him to take me," I spluttered. Though we had spoken of a possibility of something more after the war, nothing was firm and I certainly couldn't plan for it. "We have no understanding," I said.

"Chérie, you must convince him. You must be safe."

I shook my head; I didn't think I could possibly convince him to get me out of Europe when his job was to stay here.

"Listen to me, Bella," she said, shaking me. "You must do whatever it takes. Our situation is not getting better. It will only get worse. And I can't stand to see you suffer." She hiccupped another cry. "We do not have the means to get out by ourselves and even if we could we have no way of making it on our own in a foreign land," she said, her eyes beseeching me along with her words. "Edward loves you. I know, I see. He only needs some motivation. A child will make him act."

My mouth gaped open at her suggestion.

"Just listen," she insisted, grabbing my arms with surprising strength, before continuing quickly. "It is nothing he doesn't already want. He would take you as his wife in an instant if he felt he could. Make him see, chérie. You _must_ be safe."

I shook my head slowly, not believing what I was hearing. "Maman, I could never do that to him. He would never forgive me. And I could never use a child that way."

Tears streamed down her face, but she held my gaze. "Think about it, Bella. You could be safe, out of the country. And perhaps we could come with you or you could send for us later. It's not as though he doesn't want it. You would just be easing his decision."

Incredulous, I stared at her, afraid she'd gone mad. "You need to rest, Maman. Come, get in bed. You will feel better after some sleep," I said, helping her to her bed.

She was delirious. I knew she had been losing sleep and was speaking out of her exhaustion, grief, and terror. Surely, this woman who had instilled in us the ideals of chastity and honesty our entire lives had lost her mind.

I sat with her till she fell asleep, then quietly went back to my own bed. But sleep would not come. I kept hearing her words ring over and over in my mind. I was appalled at her suggestion and even just the thought of it made me feel sick in the pit of my stomach.

~~ 0 ~~

Angela died on a Tuesday. Maman dressed her in her best dress. Alice picked flowers and placed them in her hands, which rested on her chest.

I stood in the kitchen, clinging to Edward. He held me and said nothing. Maman walked in and looked at me mournfully. I knew what she was silently pleading and I shut my eyes, holding Edward tighter.

We buried my sister by the row of cypress trees next to the vineyard. There was no service, no special words. Afterwards, we all walked back to the house. I was in no mood for visiting, so Edward gave me a kiss on the cheek and left.

We went to bed early that night. Maman tried to hide her sorrow, but Alice and I could hear her weeping as we lay in bed waiting for sleep.

The next morning, that same Nazi officer came by to take whatever goods we could offer. I wanted to spit in his face. He looked at me in that same way that made me feel dirty and I looked at him with all the hate I could muster. We had only a bit of bread in the house and we were all weak from hunger and grief but Maman gave him a loaf of bread and a bottle of wine. He happily took it and he was on his way, but not before winking lasciviously at me.

She turned around and looked at me with concern when she saw my expression.

"I suppose he'll be making a habit of stealing our food," I said bitterly.

"Has he been here before?"

I heaved a sigh, regretting I had said anything. "Yes, once before."

She looked alarmed.

"Everything is fine, Maman, please don't worry," I said, leaving the room. I wasn't up for an argument and frankly neither was she.

~~ 0 ~~

I was kneading dough for bread when I heard the knock at the door. Maman and Alice were out standing in ration lines to try and get some food and Dr. and Madame Rosenberg were in the sitting room resting. I went out and we exchanged a look. I peeked out the window and saw it was only Edward. "It's fine," I said. We couldn't be too careful with the increasing visits from Nazi soldiers to people's homes.

I opened the door and was struck anew by just how beautiful Edward was. I was always aware of his attractiveness. But every now and then it shocked me again.

"Hi," he said with a little smile.

"Hi."

He stepped closer and tucked my hair behind my ear. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm okay," I said, though really I was terrified. Our situation didn't seem to be looking up. What if we couldn't get enough food and the little we managed to get was taken by the Nazis? What if, with our weakened bodies, we all caught ill? What if we were swept up in violence? What if our home was raided and they discovered we were harboring the Rosenbergs? The realities of our precarious situation were all crashing in on me, one by one.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked.

"Sure, let me just finish with the dough and get my coat."

When I went back into the kitchen to finish the dough, Madame Rosenberg stepped in and took over. "Go, be with your man," she winked.

I smiled at her. She had always been a romantic.

I got my coat and went to Edward, who was in talking with Dr. Rosenberg.

When we stepped outside, the mistral cut right through me. I could feel it all the way to my bones. But still I wanted to be alone with Edward.

We walked a bit down by the vineyard. The leaves had completely fallen from the vines and many of the trees. The green cypress trees bent and writhed against the wind, appearing to only hold on by their roots, surrounded on every side by barren land.

"Edward, why do you stay when it is so dangerous?"

"Because my job requires it," he said simply. "And the world deserves to know the truth about what is happening here."

We went around the back side of the barn and I looked out at the canal. "I want to leave this place," I said miserably.

"Bella, you will be fine. I will take care of you," he said, stopping me, and holding my upper arms.

"Please take me away from here," I begged him, shamelessly.

He looked surprised, his mouth parted and his brows knit themselves together. "I… I can't do that. Not yet. I have to see this through," he said, looking apologetic. "When the war is over, if you still want to leave with me, I'll marry you and take you to America. I promise I will take care of you," he said, running one finger down my cheek.

I looked up into his soft and clear green eyes. My heart swelled at his sincerity. But it wasn't enough. He felt trapped here as well. My eyes pricked in frustration with our circumstances. I wanted to believe that he would help us, but he couldn't possibly make sure nothing bad happened. Nor could he continue giving us his food. There simply wasn't enough.

"You know that, don't you?" he asked. It seemed important to him that I trust him. I knew that he _wanted_ to protect me.

So I gave a small nod because I did believe it was his intention.

He studied my eyes and frowned. "Sweet girl, I could never let anything happen to you." He held me close, shielding me from the sharp wind and crushed his lips to mine as though willing me through his kiss to trust him.

He cradled my face and kissed me as though it was our last. I pressed myself to him, wanting any solace from the fear, drowning myself in him. His hand trailed down my collar and along the opening of my coat then paused. I felt desperate for him. I needed to be closer. I was breathing harshly, nearly sobbing from desire and terror and love all bound into one as his hand hovered there at the buttons. Slowly, he unbuttoned one, then two buttons, and slid his hands inside. He held my ribcage just below my arms, his thumbs brushing just under my breasts.

I ran my tongue along his lips and he opened his mouth as I arched my back. His fingers tightened around me and my breath caught. His thumbs inched closer to where I wanted them and finally brushed the underside of my breasts. I groaned at the contact and tugged at his hair. This seemed to spur him. He grunted and his whole hands moved to hold me, kneading, massaging, driving me mad with an overflow of swirling emotions.

"Dear God, I want you, Bella," he said before crashing his lips to mine once again.

The thought came unbidden. _It would be so easy… _And then Maman's words,"It is nothing he doesn't already want... Make him see, chérie."

I jerked my mouth away, gasping and grasping his arms.

His hands were gone in an instant and I both mourned their loss and sighed in relief from the sweet torture.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so sorry," he breathed, misunderstanding my actions.

"No, it's not that," I said, shaking my head. What could I say to him? I settled for the truth. "I want you too," I confessed.

He laughed huskily, then breathed deeply through his nose and rebuttoned my coat. "Let's get you back inside. Your nose is pink." He kissed it and then took my hand, heading back home.

~~ 0 ~~

Maman developed a cough that week but wouldn't acknowledge it. Alice and I dared not speak of it. But every time Maman was wracked with coughing, we shared painful glances with great concern. She kept working, kept pushing herself, refusing to let it knock her down. After a couple days of this, I found her in the middle of the morning, sleeping in a chair in the sitting room.

"Maman, come, let's get you in bed. You just need to rest," I said, looping my arm underneath hers.

"No, chérie, I am fine. I just need to keep moving, I didn't sleep well last night is all," she said, starting to cough and falling back into the chair.

I blinked in surprise at her weakness. "No, you're not doing any more work today. Alice and I will take care of everything, you need sleep," I stated, firmly.

Finally, she capitulated. I got her comfortable and brought her a drink of water.

When Dr. Rosenberg saw her, he confirmed what we already thought. It was pneumonia.

That night she was overcome by fever. I tended to her as Alice made bread for the next day. I wiped my mother's face; she opened her eyes and smiled.

"Chérie," she whispered.

"It's alright, Maman, I am here."

"You must promise me you will get out," she said gently. "Both you and Alice. You must do what you must."

"Shhh," I whispered. "We're not leaving you."

"He loves you," she continued, undeterred. "He will take care of you, he only needs a little motivation. Think of how precious a baby would be, born of your love for each other."

My heart clenched as I listened to her. I knew she was right. I knew he loved me, and he had all but told me he wanted to marry me and have children. Would it really be so wrong? I shook my head, disbelieving my scheming mind.

"Isabella, listen," she said, sounding surprisingly stern. "If I am gone, you must take care of yourselves. And even if I live, we still must leave this place. There is nothing for us here but death and oppression," she said, her eyes steady.

I couldn't bear the thought of losing Maman. Who would be my strength if she was gone? I thought of all the times I'd clung to her apron, everything she'd taught me, all the love she'd given, summer times with lemonade and swimming in the sea.

"Your father did not give his life for us to waste away," she reminded me, before being consumed by another fit of coughing.

I closed my eyes in resignation. She was right; Papa would die a thousand more deaths to prevent what we were succumbing to. How could I not do what I could? And Edward would want a baby; I was sure of it.

Tears spilled over my cheeks as her coughing subsided. I nodded, agreeing to this lesser evil. And yet simultaneously grieving what I must do to the man I loved; take away his choice.

She sighed in relief, seeing my assent. "You must take a meal and some wine to his home. Arrange a dinner, give him wine."

I began to cry harder, thinking how much this felt like a betrayal. But what could I do? We were desperate.

"Bella, wine will not make him do anything he doesn't want to do. It will only give him the courage to do what is in his heart."

With her words ringing in my head, I went to sleep that night, dreaming of the hurt on his face when he would inevitably realize what I had done.

~~ 0 ~~

When I thought it was time that I could become with child, I packaged up some chicken, some bread, and a small pat of butter. It was all we could get, we were lucky to have gotten a chicken from Madame Rousseau. I took two bottles of our strongest wine. Dressed in my prettiest dress, I bundled up against the cold and set out on the bicycle.

Edward lived in a cottage in the country that he rented from a man who lived in Marseille. I had been by his home before, but only once. Usually, Edward came to visit at our home.

I forced all feelings of right and wrong aside. This was about survival. If he hated me for this, I would only ask that he get us settled in America and we would find a way to make it on our own. But there was no way we could get out without help.

There was smoke coming from the chimney; he had a fire going. I smoothed my hair and knocked on his door. He opened it almost immediately.

"Bella, what are you doing here?"

"Surprise," I said, my voice cracking a bit as I forced a smile on my face and held out the basket of food.

He shook his head. "What are you doing? You need that food for your family," he said taking my arm and pulling me into the warmth of his cottage, dusk painting the December evening sky.

"I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for us. And I thought it would be nice to just enjoy ourselves for one evening," I lied.

He looked at me carefully and I forced my features to remain smooth. After a moment he smiled brightly. "That would be wonderful, thank you. But it's late. You shouldn't have come on your own."

I shrugged slightly.

"I guess I can take you home after we eat," he said.

I chewed on the corner of my lip, anxiety suddenly coursing through me at what I was about to do. Why did this all have to be so complicated? In order to ensure the survival of my family, I was lying to the man I loved, I'd be losing my virginity, and I'd be committing a mortal sin. And that all paled when I considered the desired outcome of a baby. How could I bring a baby into such a dangerous life? It would be the most selfish thing I would ever do. I only hoped that the Lord would be merciful and we could find love and joy when this was all but a memory.

His expression was curious as he took the basket to the table in the small cottage. I looked around at the place that was his home. There were only three rooms: the kitchen and sitting area, the WC, and… the bedroom.

"May I help you with your coat?" he asked as he came around behind me. As he pulled it off my shoulders I heard the sharp intake of breath when he saw my bare shoulders and back.

It was a summer dress, completely inappropriate for winter, so I was grateful for the warmth in his cottage. I felt as though my motives were completely transparent but I didn't have many pretty dresses left and I had wanted to at least look beautiful for him.

His finger trailed down my spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake and he walked around to face me. I saw his eyes take in the deep V neckline in the front and I felt the flush rise in my cheeks. He shook his head slightly. "You are stunning," he said. "What did I do to deserve such an honor?" he asked with a nervous laugh.

My hands twisted anxiously in front of me. "I just wanted to look nice for you," I said.

He placed his finger under my chin, lifting it, and gave me a gentle kiss. "You take my breath away," he whispered. "Come, you must be hungry, let's eat."

I poured wine for us both. I knew that I needed some wine to get through this evening too. He turned on the phonograph to some soft band music and we sat down to eat.

He seemed appreciative of the chicken. It tasted amazing, but I had to force myself to eat. With a growing lump in my throat, I refilled his glass every chance I got. He appeared increasingly relaxed, running his fingers along my arm, touching my neck and kissing my shoulder. The wine was doing its job on me as well. My body heated at his touch and I felt something stirring deep inside of me as I put the food away.

"Mmm," he hummed, coming up behind me as I filled our glasses one more time. His hands went to my waist and circled around to my stomach as he put his nose to the back of my neck and breathed in. "I should take you home now," he said, but he began kissing the back of my neck and I melted into his embrace. I turned around and gave him his wine, I had lost track of how many glasses we'd had. We drank as we gazed into each others eyes. His were dark and filled with desire. I wondered what he saw in mine.

A new song began on the phonograph. He leaned forward and kissed me on my neck again, blazing a trail of heat. "Dance with me?" he murmured just below my ear. The suggestion sounded heavenly. Then he ran his hands lightly down my arms taking my hands in his, and leading me out to the open floor by the fire.

His arms were around me and we were swaying together. His hands roamed the skin of my back and I played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

I don't know who kissed whom first. But we were swirling, we were pushing, we were pulling. Hands explored, fingers caressed, legs entwined. I could feel every inch of my body against his, his heart beating against my chest, his muscles moving under my hands. Every nerve ending was alight. Every sensation heightened and a primal thrumming coursed through my body.

His fingers plunged into my hair as he consumed me whole. He pulled pins from my chignon, loosening and letting my hair down against my back and shoulders. He cradled my head, holding it firm, while he melded our lips, our tongues, and our breaths together. I felt completely wrapped up in him.

"Well, I can't take you home now," he said in between sweet, wet kisses.

"What?" I asked in a confused daze.

He smirked and pointed to the window where sheets of rain covered its surface. How convenient. I hadn't even heard it over our heavy breathing.

"I'll just stay here tonight," I said, looking steadily into his eyes bringing my hands up around his neck and kissing him with all I had, not giving him the chance to argue or rationalize.

I felt him capitulate as he groaned into my mouth and pulled me hard against him. Somewhere in my desire laced frenzy I knew I had won and the guilty recriminations were all but silenced in my intoxicated state.

My body was alive. It was on fire, moving in ways it had never done before. I wanted this. He wanted me. We loved each other. What could be wrong about this? It was beautiful and I felt powerful.

I began fumbling with his buttons, eventually managing to remove his shirt. His hands became frenzied, pulling the straps of my dress over my arms, then pausing only a beat. "Oh God, Bella, are you sure?" he asked, but he didn't wait for my answer, he only slid the straps all the way down, revealing my naked chest. His lips descended on mine again, then hot and wet trailing down my neck, across my collar bone and over my breast.

"Ahh," I cried as he took it into his mouth and sucked – hard. He was on his knees and his hands moved down my sides, bringing my dress with them. His mouth followed there too, his tongue swirling in my navel as his hands moved to my legs, inching upwards till they held the backs of my upper thighs, stopping my squirming. Then leaving the dress draped at my waist, all at once he stood up, and scooped me in his arms, carrying me to his room, where he laid me on his bed and pulled off his pants, leaving only his shorts. He moved quickly, dizzyingly fast, or maybe that was the wine. But his hands returned to my waist and slid my dress down, throwing it to the floor.

He was over me and I couldn't think. I knew I should be feeling bad, but I forced it away. All I wanted was Edward and he wanted me and we were here – together. I wrapped my legs around his thighs as he sucked on my lower lip.

"Tell me this is what you want," he demanded as he slid his shorts down and kicked them off. "Say it, tell me, I need to hear it," he said.

"Yes please, I want you. I want this," I rasped as I rose off the bed to capture his lips again.

He didn't break the kiss as he took off my panties, I climbed onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, arching my back and kissing him, sliding my tongue against his. His hands slid down over my back side, and down the backs of my thighs, resting in the crook of my knees and pulled me tighter against him.

He was hard and he was right there, but I didn't really know what I was doing. I only knew I wanted to be impossibly closer. Suddenly he had me on my back, he supported his weight with one arm and trailed the other over my breasts and down between my legs.

"Uhh," he grunted. "I'm sorry, this is probably going to hurt, but I can't, I can't wait any longer," he said roughly.

"Then don't," I said, latching my lips to his, weaving my fingers through his hair and tugging as I knew he liked. I focused on relaxing all my muscles even further and on pouring all my love into this offering. _Deception, more like_. My conscience chose that moment to rear its head just as Edward pushed himself into me and pain shot through my lower body.

"Arrrggh!" I cried, arching my back and pushing my head back on the pillow.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," he said, kissing my neck and my chest. He waited till I looked into his eyes, which were so full of love and passion. "I love you," he said, then kissed me so sweetly that tears pricked at my eyes.

I could feel his body trembling from the strain of holding still. But before long, he was making small, slow movements. It felt like someone was ramming something into my spine and tears came in earnest. _You deserve this_, that inner voice taunted and I fought hard to keep it back. I knew we both wanted this, I knew Edward loved me and I loved him. I struggled to focus on that and on giving myself to him. The pain dulled a bit as he waited, barely moving.

"Is it okay?" he asked through gritted teeth and I knew he was using all of his strength to be as gentle as he could.

I had asked for this, had planned this, had practically forced this. I had to accept the pain that came with it. "It's fine," I said.

He let out a great heaving groan and pulled all the way out and pushed himself completely back inside of me. It burned, oh how it burned. The tears leaked from my eyes and he kissed them away. "Oh God, you feel so good."

Guilt pounded me down as he was reaching his heights, exalting my name. I wondered how he would feel in the morning, or worse if he found out what I'd done. The tears hadn't ceased since that first wave of pain, only now it was more from mounting shame.

When he finally moved his last inside of me, falling on top of me, his breath heaving in my ear, I breathed a sigh of relief and felt the bitter tang of condemnation.

He kissed me sweetly, his hands lightly caressing my body. "I'm sorry, I should have been more gentle," he said.

The lump grew larger in my throat.

"I love you," he said, then rolling over, he pulled me with him, tucking me into his chest. He held me protectively, whispering over and over of his love and devotion to me. He fell asleep and even in his sleep he pulled me tightly to him, humming as though deeply contented.

Eventually sleep claimed me while tears streamed down my face, a hollow feeling weighing down the pit of my stomach and a dull ache throbbing between my legs. I had taken what should have been special between us and turned it into an ugly lie.

I awoke the next morning to movement and warmth. I felt groggy but content till I realized that I was naked… and I wasn't alone. My eyes shot open to see Edward's face smiling gently at me as his hand ran through my hair. His other hand was on my hip, kneading the muscles there.

"Good morning," he said cautiously.

The guilt and shame of what I had done flooded over me and suddenly I needed to get out of there. I sat up abruptly, holding the blankets to my body, looking around for my clothes. I felt Edward sit up behind me.

"Hey," he said, rubbing my back. "Don't run away."

"I'm not. I just… Maman will wonder where I am. She'll be worried, I need to get home," I lied.

"Oh… of course," he said, sounding almost disappointed.

I slid from the bed, taking a blanket with me, and as I turned around I saw Edward looking down at the sheets, blotches of red staining the white linens where I had laid. Bile rose in my throat and Edward looked up at me with sad eyes.

He got up from the bed and came over to where I stood, put his hands on my shoulders, and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course I am," I said, sounding a little too shrill in my ears. I really had to go, especially if he was going to be so sweet. I was a horrible person, I didn't deserve his kindness.

I was still looking around the room for my clothes, when he lifted my chin with a finger and stooped low to look into my eyes.

"Will I still see you tomorrow?" His expression was so hopeful, so eager to stand in the lines at the charcuterie with me the next day.

"Yes," I said miserably.

He let out a breath, as though he'd been holding it, and smiled. Then placing his hands on the wall on either side of my head, he kissed me so slowly, so sweetly that it ached.

He barely pulled away so that his lips still brushed mine while he spoke. "Let me get you something for breakfast then I'll take you home." But he didn't make a move except to continue kissing me, his hands moving down to wrap around my waist, pulling me tight against his naked body, only the sagging blanket between us.

My traitorous body began to respond as I felt his doing the same and I was just about to pull away when he began to kiss my neck. He kissed up to my ear, pulling the lobe into his mouth and nibbling gently as his hands tugged the blanket to the floor then massaged my breasts. My mouth fell open and my fingers went into his hair, my knees weakening. He had me pinned to the wall, steadying me there.

"What are you doing to me?" he murmured into my neck.

And in the full light of day, with no wine to blur my morals, his question, intended as a compliment, slapped me in the face.

He kissed my lips again, running his tongue between them. One of his hands descended down my belly, down further on the same path it had traveled before, to the same destination, and I stiffened under his touch.

He stilled, his open mouth still on mine, just breathing together. I clenched my eyes tight and he stepped back, taking his warmth.

I didn't think I could continue lying to his face. I had to get out of there. "It's best if I just go," I said.

"Of course, forgive me. I'm so sorry," he said, shaking his head and wrapping himself in a blanket, handing me my dress. "I'll just… be out here," he said, not meeting my eyes and running his hand through his hair. And he left the room.

I leaned against the wall, fighting for control over my sobs, pressure building in my chest, my stomach turning with nausea. I dressed myself absently, smoothed my hair, wiped my face, and stepped out into the sitting room, where Edward waited.

He looked nervous, keeping his eyes on me as I walked toward the door. "You regret it," he said in a monotone. "Bella, I am so, so sorry if I…" he raked his fingers through his hair again. "Did I… did I misinterpret how you felt? What you wanted?"

"No, Edward, please don't."

"The wine," he said, looking near panic. "I never should have pushed you when you'd had so much to drink." He crossed the small room and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"Edward, I wanted it. I wanted you. Promise me you won't feel badly. I'm just tired, I just need to go home."

He was quiet for a moment, then he released me. "Will your mother kill you? Will she kill me?" he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting tentatively.

I shook my head, "No, she's too sick to have noticed my absence," I covered easily.

He frowned, "She's sick?"

I nodded, "Dr. Rosenberg thinks it's pneumonia," I said.

His forehead creased as he studied the floor, wrinkling his lips in thought. "Let me get dressed and I'll take you home."

"No, please don't bother, I'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" I said as I reached for the door.

His eyes were wary, examining my expression, which I carefully kept neutral. "Yeah, I'll come by to pick you up after lunch," he said.

I smiled and walked out the door.

Maman was still in bed when I got home. Alice was wiping her brow and came out into the hall when I came to the door.

"She seems worse," she said, her face ragged with exhaustion and worry. "She's burning up and her chest rattles terribly with every breath."

I nodded sadly.

"So?" She prompted. "How did it go?"

"It worked," I said, chewing the inside of my cheek and picking at the splintering wood around the latch in the door frame.

Alice reached out and rubbed my arm. "He loves you; it would have happened sooner or later."

I shrugged my shoulders. "If you don't mind, I'm going to go sleep for a little while."

She leaned in and kissed my cheek. And I went to my bed and slept fitfully.

~~ 0 ~~

**A/N: Let me hear from you. :D**

**Terms:**

Mistral: A strong, cold regional wind in France, which blows through the Rhone Valley and southern France to the Mediterranean.

WC: Stands for water closet. In France they use this term for bathroom and they pronounce it vay-say.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: ****Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

**Warning: **This story contains minor violence. It is rated M for mature themes and is not intended for people under the age of 18.

~~ 0 ~~

The next morning, Maman was coughing so violently that I didn't think I could take it anymore. I just wanted out of the house. I decided to go over to Edward's, hoping that we could go to town earlier rather than later. I felt terrible for abandoning Alice, but I could only handle so much.

I pedaled quickly down the lane, by the canal and over the bridge. The cold bit right through my coat and my cheeks burned from the icy wind. It didn't take much time to get to Edward's house on bicycle and before long, I was walking up the steps to his front door.

I hunched up my shoulders and retreated as much of my face into my coat as I could as I knocked on the door. The whirring of wind sounded in my ears and I looked over to see leaves dancing by the wrought iron window boxes. I waited a moment before knocking again. But there was still no response.

I huffed in frustration. I shouldn't have just assumed he'd be here. He was probably out working. Slumping my shoulders, I dropped my head and turned around to head back home. But I was startled to see that there was someone there. And it was not Edward.

"Look what we have here," he said in his German accent.

It was the Nazi officer that had been coming to our home, taking our food. He had a friend with him, a black Citroën sat up the lane just a little. How had I not heard it approach?

"What are you doing all alone?" he asked, stalking closer to me. Clicking his tongue and shaking his head disingenuously he continued, "Such a beautiful woman should not be left alone." A shiver ran through me that had nothing to do with the cold as his eyes traveled down the length of my body and he came to stop immediately in front of me. His friend smiled wickedly.

"What is your name?" he asked.

I said nothing as I calculated my chances at escape. Escape from one of them was highly unlikely and then only if he didn't have an automobile, which he did. Escape from them both would most certainly be impossible. Not only did they outnumber me _and_ have the Citroën, but they both carried guns. My breathing was shallow as my eyes darted around in fright, looking for some sort of weapon or some other option. There was nothing.

"You are a quiet one. I like that." His eyes gleamed with an opportunity realized. He stepped even closer till he stood just in front of me, his black leather gloves creaking as he flexed his fingers.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God, please help me._

"Seems like nobody is home, why don't you come with us?"

Then I really began to panic. What could I do? There must be something. My feet felt like cinder blocks, rooted in place.

"Come on now," he urged, placing his hand over the pistol in its holster.

I took one wooden step in the direction he indicated, then continued following him down the path. The other officer fell in line behind me. Their boots clicked down the cobblestones in unison as they marched. When I failed to walk fast enough, the officer behind shoved me to pick up the pace.

They took me out behind Edward's home and I bit my lips to keep them from trembling and fought the terrified tears. I imagined Edward finding my body, long after they were finished with me. Then I thought of how Alice would be all alone if Maman passed.

My mind was whirling as we came to a stop along the back wall.

"You seem like a nice girl. Play nice and this will go much better for you," he said, reaching inside his coat and undoing his pants.

One hot tear slid down my cheek. I thought about the cruel irony of the situation. In addition to the loss of our freedoms, these violations were precisely why Papa had joined the Resistance. I had heard about the horrific way in which some of the Nazis treated women in the cities. I had not heard of it happening in the country, but obviously it had only been a matter of time.

"Who knows? Play really nice and you may live to see another day," he sneered, as he stepped forward and I retreated, my back hitting the wall. His vile breath blanketed my face and I cringed away, his hand on my behind, pulling me to him. I began to question if I would even want to live after today.

I squeezed my eyes shut and whimpered. His gloved hand, came up to cover my mouth, pressing hard so that my lips were crushed against my teeth painfully.

"I said I like you quiet," he hissed, ripping my coat open with his other hand.

My eyes shot open as I heard the buttons hit the wall behind me and almost wept with relief as I saw Edward violently wrenching the other officer's gun from the holster, causing my attacker to jump back in surprise at his friend's outcry. Edward didn't hesitate, there wasn't even time to scream as he pulled the trigger, dropping the officer in front of me to the ground. The man whose gun had been stolen began to retreat and Edward's eyes blazed with fury as he rapidly stalked towards the man at my feet.

"Step away, Bella," he snarled through clenched teeth, his face tense, standing directly above the gasping and gurgling man, the pistol aimed at his head.

I ran back to an alcove in the house. But nearly as soon as my back was turned, I heard the shot. I looked up to see the other officer running back around the side of the house. Then Edward took off after the escaping man and I collapsed to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest and rocking, avoiding looking at the dead man.

The bitter cold did not register as I sat waiting for Edward to return. I heard two pops of the gun and was suddenly terrified that something could have happened to him. I heard footsteps and just as I was about to run and hide somewhere else, Edward ran around the corner, breathing heavily, his eyes wild with concern. He stopped, leaning his elbow against the wall, his forearm covering his face while he wheezed.

"Bella, what are you doing here alone?" he asked, seeming angry.

"I'm sorry, I just… I couldn't stand to hear Maman… and the coughing… and… I just wanted to see you, maybe go to town earlier…" I blubbered.

He came over to me and lifted me to my feet, looking me over. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

I shook my head, biting my lip to stop the tears. I was so tired of crying. "I'm fine, they didn't hurt me."

"Barely," he bit out, taking my hand and leading me out of the alcove and around the house, in the opposite direction of the dead man.

I felt like a scolded child as he dragged me along behind him. "I'm so sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

He brought me in through the front door and straight back into his bedroom before releasing my arm. I looked around, remembering the last time I was there. My cheeks flamed. _Why did he bring me here?_

But he grabbed a canvas duffel bag from under the bed and began opening drawers and grabbing clothes and other personal items and shoving them in the bag.

"What – what are you doing?"

"I have to leave."

"Leave where?"

"Bella, I just killed a Nazi officer and the other got away. I don't have much time before there's a whole troop of them swarming the area."

"But – where will you go? What will you do?"

He didn't respond as he threw his camera and some documents into the olive green bag.

"Let me come with you," I begged.

"No."

"Edward, please. I didn't mean to get you in trouble. I know this is my fault. Please don't leave me."

He zipped his bag shut, threw it over his shoulder and grabbed my arm, pulling me along with him. He stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a loaf of bread, then went straight out the front door, still towing me along, his fingers pinching my skin.

"Get your bicycle, I'm taking you home."

I'm sure I must have looked stricken as I stood stock still, gaping at him.

He sighed, "Bella, I'm not leaving _you_. But I have to leave this place and I'm not taking you from your family, they need you. I don't have the time or means to get you all out right now," he said, shaking his head. "So get your damn bicycle and let's go," he pointed at it, nearly yelling at me.

My eyes widened at his tone and I ran over and hopped on as he produced his own bicycle and we rode off down the lane. I felt two centimeters tall. Even in this, I was delaying his escape because he wanted to protect me on my ride home.

Edward was silent as we rode back to the house. I was terrified I was losing him. All thoughts of trapping him were gone. All I wanted was him. I didn't want to lose him.

As we pulled up to my house, I got off my bicycle and nudged the kick stand down. When I looked up he was striding over to me with singular purpose. His eyebrows were knit together, his eyes hard and dark. I actually flinched when he reached me, irrationally thinking he might hit me – though he had never so much as raised his voice at me before that day.

Instead, he grabbed me by the small of my back, pulling me flush against his body and kissed me like I'd never been kissed before. The force of it bent me backwards as he moved one hand into my hair, securing my face to his – as though I might get away. He groaned as his mouth moved feverishly, his tongue swirled and pushed. When he pulled away he still looked angry as I looked up into his eyes.

"Keep your head down. Don't go out alone. And for God's sake, if you see that officer again, run the other way," he demanded. I didn't dare argue. "I love you, Bella," he growled. "I _will_ come back for you." He said it so firmly that it resonated in my bones. Then he gave me one soft final kiss and he was gone.

I stood there in shock for I don't know how long before I began to feel the chill cut through me. My open coat was flapping in the wind. I'd have to find some new buttons and fix it. I turned, absently and walked into the house, closing the door behind me and leaning against it, staring into nothingness.

~~ 0 ~~

The next weeks passed in a blur. We went on with life as usual, trying to keep food in our stomachs, heat in our home, and tending to Maman. Dr. Rosenberg checked her daily to see how she was doing. For a time she had seemed stronger; her cough subsiding. But after a brief improvement, her condition worsened again.

At one point, officers came to the door, investigating the murder of one of their own. I hid upstairs with the Rosenbergs while Alice answered the door. They interrogated her, but left rather quickly after hearing Maman's desperate coughing.

Neighbors were kind enough to bring us food when they could and we paid with our only currency: the dwindling supply of wine from our vineyard. We hadn't made any since before Papa died and we hoped that it would be enough to get us through.

But still our flesh hollowed, and our clothes hung loose as we felt the effects of not having enough.

At night, I stared up at the stars and thought of Edward, wondering where he was at that moment, wondering if he was thinking of me.

One afternoon I took some weak broth in for Maman. I helped to prop her up on her pillows and sat beside her. She was so weak, so pale. Her breathing was shallow, except for the frequent deep coughs that wracked her body. She leaned back, her too-thin arms resting limply by her sides. Her dull eyes, in slits, peered at me as I spooned broth to her pale lips. She managed a couple swallows before the coughing consumed her again.

When she regained her composure, I put another spoonful to her mouth but she shook her head.

"I'm not getting better," she croaked.

"Yes, you will, Maman. It just takes time," I argued gently.

"It's okay, chérie. I know I'm not getting better. I am at peace, you need to be too," she said, raising one shaking hand and pressing the backs of her knuckles against my cheek. "You have to fight. Do right by the Rosenbergs, they are good people." She began to wheeze but she was determined to get her message across. "But you and your sister need to do whatever it takes to survive for yourselves too. I believe your Edward will come back for you, but if he does not, you do what you need to do."

In my heart, I knew she was right. I didn't see how she could possibly improve with no medicine, very little warmth, and little food. But the ache of her likely impending death was a deep chasm and I felt as though I would fall in if I even looked into it, never to be able to climb my way out. So I immediately focused on what I had to do in the coming days, not the pain that threatened to consume.

"I know I have made mistakes. Your Papa made mistakes. But we did it for love of you and your sisters."

"Shh, Maman, shhh," I whispered. "Please do not think of it."

"Remember what I say," she said, gripping my hand.

I kissed her cheek. "I will. You rest now." Rising from the bed, I slipped my hand from hers and left the room.

~~ 0 ~~

We buried Maman next to Angela on an unusually sunny day in January. The Rosenbergs made a rare trip outside to help us. They had been staying in to avoid being seen as the days were increasingly dangerous for the Jews, with more and more being arrested. Madame Rosenberg had her arms wrapped around both Alice and me, but no one said a word. No tears were shed as we stared into the dormant vineyard, its ropey leafless vines looking cracked and brittle.

We walked silently back to the house and carried on with our responsibilities and activities.

It took all my emotional energy to focus only on tasks. If I let myself contemplate all we had lost I would cease to function and that would get us nowhere.

It wasn't until Alice's monthly time was upon her that I realized I had still not had mine and here it was nearly two months after that night with Edward. I had never been completely regular, and the stress of our situation didn't help matters, but it had never been this long in between.

I had been very tired and not feeling well, but I'd chosen to attribute it to lack of food and emotional and physical exhaustion from caring for Maman and eventually her loss. In the wake of my regret over what I had planned to do to Edward, I had detached myself from the idea that the very thing I'd intended could have come to be. But I needed to face that this was a very real possibility.

A new wave of anxiety crashed over me, threatening to drown me with all that was going on. Alice and I were on our own, sheltering a Jewish couple, we had little food, essentially no transportation, no real means of support… No Edward. And it looked as though there may be a baby on the way.

I didn't know if Edward was alive or dead. If he was alive, I didn't even know if he was in France. I didn't know if he would be able to return to me. If he was able, would he even want to, or would he have forgotten about me? Perhaps he had found another girl to love back in America.

That was the thought that finally broke down my defenses and I wept pitifully into my pillow, begging God for his forgiveness for my abominable behavior and pleading for his mercy.

~~ 0 ~~

Our orange tree bore large, beautiful fruit that February. We ate oranges morning, noon, and night and we thrilled in their juicy sweetness. It was a welcome change from bread and weak broth made from boiling chicken bones far too many times.

It had been nearly three months since that night with Edward and along with tiredness, no menstruation, and an unsettled stomach – as the rest of my body continued to thin out – my belly became a bit rounded.

I could no longer deny the life that was forming within, but surprisingly my feelings toward it had changed; even though it still terrified me, it gave me a secret thrill as well.

I knew I deserved the increased hardships to come. I had intended it, after all. But unlike before, I no longer looked at this child as a burden or as a regret. I knew the challenges we would encounter. I knew the judgments we would face from some. But I was beginning to feel a secret bond with this baby, Edward's baby. It was as though I had been given a special trust and I would protect it at all costs.

I don't know why but I hadn't said a word to Alice or to the Rosenbergs. I knew that Alice had noticed the absence of my monthly, how could she not? She was fully aware of what had happened between Edward and me, so I was sure she knew.

But I didn't want to speak of it. It was all I had of Edward and I wanted to keep it to myself for the time being. I knew that wouldn't last long, but I wanted to keep this gift private for just a little longer.

~~ 0 ~~

As the weeks and months passed, my clothes began to tighten around my growing middle. Alice worked hard to alter some dresses for me, taking material from some of Maman and Angela's clothes and piecing them together. They weren't pretty, but they worked.

Winter's chill lessened and we were able to grow and trade for more food as spring gardens yielded their crops. We had fresh eggs and dairy once more from the Rousseaus.

Of course, some of our goods ended up in the hands of the Nazi officers who continued to come to our door. We never knew if the soldier who had witnessed my near attack and rescue would be the one on our step. Alice also insisted that in my condition, they would be more likely to prey on me and so she bravely faced them and thankfully remained safe.

On occasion, I encountered neighbors who had known our family my entire life. Their eyes would drift down to my belly and I could see the judgment there. One day I overheard Alice speaking in hushed but bitter tones with Madame Rosenberg.

"The Moreaus refused to trade me their lettuce. They said any family that would pay off the soldiers in such a despicable way was no family they would associate with."

I could hear the vitriol in Alice's voice and I could tell she was near tears. Madame Rosenberg tried to soothe her but I knew it wouldn't work. Alice was fiercely loyal to me.

I knew I had been a burden on Alice and the Rosenbergs. There was nothing we could tell people in response to their assumptions that I had slept with the soldiers to gain favor and so sometimes we went without items we might otherwise be able to acquire. I bore the brunt of the shame for what I had done and I _was_ ashamed of the actions that had led me to this state, but I refused to feel ashamed of my innocent baby.

We were hearing more and more of Nazis raiding homes in the country and arresting Jews and those harboring them. It was frightening but turning the Rosenbergs out was not an option. They had always been good friends of our family and helping them was the right thing to do. We did have a secret entrance to an attic in the room where they stayed and we hoped that would be enough if our home was ever raided.

In April, I felt the first little flutterings of movement within my body.

I had been shelling peas from our garden when I felt it. It was like a little butterfly tickling on the inside. I gasped and clutched at my stomach. Alice immediately ran to my side.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

I smiled and laughed. "I think, I think I just felt the baby," I said, full of awe and excitement.

"Really?" she exclaimed, her eyes bright. "Let me feel!" Her hand pressed to my lower abdomen.

"I don't know if you can; it was really light," I said, still laughing in delight, the peas long forgotten on the counter.

She pinched up her face and dropped to her knees. She placed her ear to my belly and tapped with her fingers. "Baby," she cooed and waited as though she expected it to tap out a string of Morse code.

After a few moments, she stood up with a huff. "You tell me if she moves again," she demanded.

I laughed. "She? You think it's a she?"

"Of course, she's a she," she said, offering no further explanation as though it was the most obvious thing.

I shook my head and went back to shelling peas.

That night, as happened every night, I thought of Edward. Only this time, I felt badly that he couldn't experience the little baby and pregnancy things with me. As always, I wondered if he was well and where he might be. But I realized that even if I did know that he was okay and where he was, I wouldn't try to contact him and tell him about the baby. I was still ashamed of what I had done and although I truly loved him, I couldn't bear for him to know that I had planned to use him and manipulate him in such a way. Alice and I would just have to work it out on our own, as we had been doing. And somehow that gave me a measure of pride.

~~ 0 ~~

**A/N: I'd love to know what you're thinking about the story!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: ****Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I'm just having some fun with her characters.**

**Warning: **This story contains minor violence. It is rated M for mature themes and is not intended for people under the age of 18.

~~ 0 ~~

The kicks were getting stronger. They often took my breath away and left me clutching at my stomach. Sometimes it felt like the little thing was doing gymnastics inside of me. I could feel it bouncing from top to bottom, back and forth. It was very uncomfortable. But it still made me smile because it was evidence that the baby was alive and well and we were in this together. This would be a tough little one. It had survived quite the ordeal and we had been fighting for our lives together.

By June, my back was really starting to ache. And I knew I still had a ways to go. Dr. Rosenberg had guessed that the baby would be coming somewhere around the end of August or beginning of September. So I still had two and a half to three months before the birth.

The strawberries were coming in and we were so excited to taste their sweet fruit. Alice was making bread for the day and I took a basket and headed out to the strawberry patch. My belly was getting quite large. I didn't actually know if there was much wisdom in kneeling on the ground, picking strawberries. But I just wanted to get my fingers into dirt, feel the sun on my face, and the summer breeze in my hair.

The sweet aroma of the strawberries filled the air as I walked down a row and knelt to start picking the firm berries off the plants. Dark red flesh peeked out from under green leaves and I just had to sample some. I probably ate a quarter of all the berries as I went and I felt a little sheepish for it. But I couldn't seem to resist. The juice stained the tips of my fingers and soaked in under my nails as I filled my basket.

Satisfied that I'd gotten enough, I sat up, arching my back and stretching. The weight of my belly had strained my back as I'd been on my hands and knees. I stood up awkwardly, still adjusting to the extra bulk in front and turned back towards the house.

All the air rushed out of me when I saw Edward standing, not ten meters away with a green duffel bag slung over his shoulder. I dropped my basket, plump red berries spilling in the dirt. I hadn't expected this. Even though he'd promised to return, I honestly didn't think he would. His bronze hair blew in the breeze, glinting in the sunshine. He was motionless, staring at my stomach and my eyes dropped to the irrefutable evidence of my condition. When my breath returned, it came rapidly as anxiety overcame me. _How would I explain? What would he say? What is he thinking?_ My heart beat wildly in my chest and my limbs trembled. The baby began to kick and my hand moved to my stomach.

He dropped his bag and walked over to me, placing both hands on either side of my round belly. He was warm and his hands seemed to ground me as my mind whirred.

His eyes met mine, a storm of questions and concern. "When will it…?" he trailed off as I saw his mind working, doing the math in his head.

"Probably late August or early September," I said hoarsely.

He swallowed. "I am so sorry, Bella. I can't believe I left you in this condition," he said.

I shook my head. It hadn't been his fault. "Edward, there was nothing you could do, even if we had known."

"But still, how you must have suffered."

"I'm fine," I reassured him. "You don't need to feel responsible."

"Bella, of course I do. What kind of man do you take me for?"

His sincerity was killing me. The guilt was crushing. Certainly, as soon as he knew the truth he would want nothing to do with me. "No, I mean, this is my fault. I feel so badly. I never should have…" I shook my head, licking my lips, trying to figure out what to say.

He took my face in his hands and turned it up to look in my eyes. "Bella, I love you. I'm sorry if you feel badly about what happened, but I just can't. It was… I don't regret it. The only thing I regret is if you regret it."

Closer still, he came, till he opened and closed his lips over mine, once, twice, three times, and then in a flurry he was pressing hot open mouthed kisses to my ready lips, tongue seeking, breath heaving.

Emotions warred within me: passion, lust, desperation, fear, guilt, shame… love. And soon I was fighting tears. The emotional maelstrom churned within me as he pushed harder, as though by his effort our bodies could absorb each other to become one.

"Marry me," he whispered on my lips.

I pulled away, it was all too much. "Edward, you can't marry me because of this," I said, tears tracking down my cheeks.

He was quiet, just watching me, and I took a breath, ready to tell him everything but he spoke first. "You really don't think I would have taken your virtue if I didn't plan to marry you, do you?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

All the air rushed out of my lungs and tears pricked. "I thought you'd had a lot of wine…" I said sheepishly.

He chuckled. "I wanted to marry you and have babies since… well a long time before that night." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his closed hand, then took mine, dropping to his knee, and sliding a sparkling diamond ring on my finger. "Please say you'll marry me," he said, bright hope shining from his face.

I squeezed my eyes closed and swallowed – hard. Oh, how I wanted to say yes. But my guilty conscience wouldn't allow it with this secret weighing on me. I thought about how Maman had all but admitted the sinfulness of our deception just before her death. I didn't blame her; I knew she'd done it out of desperation and out of her love for us. But I was every bit as culpable, in fact more so, for having carried it out against the man I loved. I couldn't accept his offer without giving him my honesty. "No," I whispered.

He visibly flinched as though I'd slapped him. "What?"

"I said no. At least, not until I confess something to you."

He slowly stood to his feet and watched me carefully. His eyes traveled to my belly again and his brow furrowed.

"I seduced you," I blurted out. "That night, I set out to get you to take me to bed."

His expression lightened considerably and he actually laughed. "Is that all? Bella, do you think I'm an idiot? Do you think I didn't know what you were doing?"

Now it was my turn to be confused.

He laughed again, "Showing up in that dress in the dead of winter, at sundown? With _two_ bottles of wine? I knew full well what you were doing and I didn't care. I wanted you too and the only reason I hadn't acted on it before was because I thought you didn't want to." Then his voice grew husky, "But honestly, I don't know if I could have lasted much longer. I would have tried something if you hadn't."

I swallowed and heat rushed in my face. He smiled at me and ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek.

"No, but the baby," I started again. "I… I planned it."

"What?"

Shame flooded over me at how I had used him, how I had used this precious baby. "We were so scared. Angela had died and Maman was so sick. I just… I knew you loved me and I loved you." I continued in a rush, "Maman wanted me to try and get pregnant so that you would get me out of the country. She was scared and desperate. She thought it was our only hope and I agreed because I was stupid. And I felt awful and horrible, and I'm so sorry. And if you never want to see me again, I understand because what I did was unforgivable," I spewed as I grasped his hands and prayed to God that somehow he would forgive me. Because now that he was here – here in front of me. I didn't know if I could lose him again, if I could take his rejection.

He looked stricken. He looked at me as though he didn't know me. I began to cry. Here it was, here was his answer.

He stepped back from me and I released his hands. "You… you used me?" he asked, his expression filled with hurt and confusion.

I nodded. "But please, Edward, never doubt that I loved you. That I… I still love you. And I wanted you, that night, always. That wasn't a lie. I thought you might… I don't know what I thought."

He took another couple steps backwards, staring at the ground. "I don't know what you want me to say to that, Bella."

I didn't respond because I didn't really know either. I wanted him to say it was okay, that he loved me, that he didn't care about all that. But I knew that wasn't reasonable. I had broken his trust.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," he said. "I can't do this right now."

My lip began to quiver and the tears flowed freely but I fought the wrenching sobs. My chest ached with the effort to stay silent. I didn't want him to feel pressured into staying, even though that was exactly what I had arranged for. I would rather die than have him resent me for the rest of our lives.

He picked up his bag and was gone.

I sat down in the dirt and wept. After a while, I picked up the berries, stood myself up and walked back into the house.

Madame Rosenberg was in the kitchen, washing dishes. Her hands stilled in the water when she saw me, her eyes questioning my appearance. I set the berries on the counter and went straight to bed.

At some point that night I woke up and realized I was still wearing the ring that Edward had placed on my finger when he had declared his love to me and asked me to be his wife. That set off a fresh round of uncontrollable crying that brought Alice running. She curled around me on the bed, rubbed my back, dabbed my puffy face and tried to soothe my despair. With shaking hands I removed the diamond from my finger and placed it on the table by my bed.

~~ 0 ~~

I didn't leave my room for days except to use the toilet. Alice brought me food and the only way she was able to convince me to eat was that I needed to take care of the baby and not just myself.

I had been at peace with not having Edward in my life before he returned. I wasn't thrilled about it, of course I had dreamt about our fairy tale ending. But I had come to grips with the idea that I wouldn't see him again. I had the picture of him in my mind and his love for me and I had thought I could live on that.

But now, not only did I know he would be out of my life – and the baby's life – forever. But I had hurt him and he likely hated me. I didn't know how I could live with that knowledge. But I knew I had to. I had to pull myself together not only for myself but for Edward's baby.

He may not want us anymore, but I would do right by this baby. I would raise this child so that Edward would be proud because it was the only right thing to do. And because I was already so in love with this little mystery person growing inside of me that I could do nothing but be the best mother that I could be.

So I picked myself up. I closed off that part of me that would likely never heal from his loss and I got back to the business of life. Edward might be gone, but Alice was still here. And Alice and I had to stick together.

~~ 0 ~~

The next week was tough, it was really tough. But I made it. I got up in the morning, I worked around the house and in the garden like I needed and I survived. One day at a time, I survived.

Then one night in the middle of the night we were awakened by pounding at the front door and as we were frantically rushing into our places, the door was burst open and Edward came barreling up the stairs.

"Bella!" he called, urgently. "Bella!"

I ran out to meet him and he grabbed my hand, beginning to pull me with him.

"You've got to get out of here, now!"

"Edward, what is going on?" I demanded as I yanked my hand from his grasp.

"You all have to leave. The Nazis are on their way, they're doing massive raids and sweeping every house on a swath between Aix and Marseille. I've stolen a car, you have to come with me_ now_!" he yelled at me.

Alice and Dr. and Madame Rosenberg stood behind me. I heard their gasps and we all turned to run and grab a few things we needed: clothes and documents. I grabbed Edward's ring just before running out of the room and down the stairs. Edward was already in the car as we all ran out in the cold night air and jumped in. Alice got in the back with the Rosenbergs and I sat up front next to Edward. He tore off, driving away like a madman. I turned to get one last glimpse of our house, not knowing when or if we'd ever be able to return and I saw the lights approaching and several cars pull to a stop in front of our house. A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck when I realized that if we had even been a minute longer, it would have been too late.

Edward took farm roads and out of the way, little known lanes. Sometimes he cut across fields and through pastures. He drove by the light of the moon, not daring to turn on the lamps, so that we'd be less likely to be detected. Unfortunately, that meant we sometimes missed something in our path and more than once ran through a clothes line or over dry creek beds. How he managed to keep the car from wrecking or bending an axle was a miracle.

I had no idea where he was taking us or where he would drop us off. But I held on, wide-eyed and panic-stricken. I didn't know what we would do or how we would survive but somehow we seemed to have avoided being arrested for hiding the Rosenbergs and hopefully we would make it out without us all being shipped off to internment camps.

I lost track of what direction we were going as we careened around corners and sped through fields. "Where are we going, Edward?" I asked, managing to keep my voice level.

"We're getting out."

"Out?"

"Yes, out of France. We're going to Spain."

My heart picked up speed even more and my mind raced. "What will we do?"

"_First_, we're going to get out and _then_ we'll talk," he ground out, his face lined with tension.

The sun was just threatening to rise, the sky turning slightly orange on the horizon as we entered a very small village by the sea.

Edward slowed and drove along the dirt roads until we reached a humble waterfront cottage. There were boats tied to the dock on the shore and not a light to be seen. I wondered how far we were from Marseille.

We got out of the car. Edward went immediately to the front door of the cottage and knocked.

The rest of us trailed behind him just as a man peered out through the partially open doorway.

He quickly ushered us in and I looked around at the extremely modest home. A beautiful lady, not much older than me, walked out to greet us in her robe. Edward was speaking rapidly in English to the man and I quickly began to realize that I had an urgent problem. It seemed the baby was resting on my bladder and had made him or herself quite comfortable.

"I'm sorry," I said to the woman. "Is there any chance I could use your WC?"

"Of course, chérie," she said sweetly, leading me to the very small room with the rustic toilet.

I was grateful I wasn't any further along or I might not have fit in the room.

When I returned to the kitchen where everyone was congregated, I learned that Edward was friends with this couple, Carlisle and Esme, and that they would be giving us a place to sleep and to lay low until nightfall when we would continue our journey since none of us had an Ausweis, allowing us to travel. Carlisle was an English man who had come to France on vacation and had met Esme and never left. They were very affectionate with each other, their love a beautiful but painful sight to see.

There was only one spare bed in the house and everyone insisted I take it because of the baby. Edward watched me as I went into the room to go to bed. I couldn't read his expression but I gave him a tentative smile. He just stood there, eyes stern. I sighed as I walked into the small but comfortable room and sank gratefully into the bed with a heavy heart.

I was so exhausted that I only barely heard Alice from where she lay on the floor next to me. "He's still in love with you, Bella." I fell to sleep dreaming of a small boy with auburn curls and green eyes and a husband whose love I lived for.

~~ 0 ~~

Some time later I woke to the sound of hushed voices outside the room in which I slept. It was bright here and warm, very warm.

I rolled to the side, my joints aching, as I pushed myself up to sit on the edge of the bed. Alice was gone. I wondered what we would do while we waited for nightfall. I stood up and hobbled over to the mirror. Running my fingers through my hair, I tried to get it to cooperate but the humidity made it frizzy. I rubbed my eyes and sighed. I looked tired, but there wasn't much I could do about that.

I left the room and found Alice, Esme, and the Rosenbergs in the kitchen, eating. Esme immediately jumped up, took my arm, and led me to a seat. Then she prepared a plate of fresh fruit and a croissant and set it in front of me. My mouth watered, I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten a flaky, buttery croissant, fresh from the oven.

"Mmm, Esme, this is amazing. Thank you so much," I said, feeling indebted for their hospitality.

She smiled sweetly. "I'm glad you like it."

When I finished, I stood to take my plate to the sink, but she fussed over me, taking it from me and insisting that I relax.

_I'm pregnant, not crippled_, I thought. "Please, I want to help."

She just laughed and waved me off. I sighed in resignation, sitting back down and looking over at Alice, whose eyes were full of mirth.

"I already tried," she said. "She wouldn't even let me help."

Just then Carlisle and Edward walked in the door, a gust of salty air accompanying their arrival.

"The car seems to be in good shape and we filled it with gasoline," Carlisle said.

When I looked at him in surprise he winked at me and said, "We'd managed to set some aside for times such as these."

"Wow… thank you," I said.

He just shrugged and went over to his wife, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her on the cheek. I looked down, not wanting to intrude on what seemed like a private moment, even though it was an innocent display of affection.

When I looked up, Edward's eyes were burning into mine and my breath caught in my throat. I felt my cheeks flame and I bit my lip, letting my eyes fall once again. It was painful to be in his presence but not be _with_ him.

I decided I didn't want to ride in the car with him all the way to Spain before I told him that I had no expectations of him. I wanted to release him and release some of the tension between us if that was possible. I stood up and began to walk out of the kitchen. "Can I speak with you?" I asked him quietly as I passed.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and followed me into the room where Alice and I were staying.

I took the small pouch from my bag that I had hidden his ring in and turned back around to face him. I was determined not to cry. He needed to see that I was strong and that I wasn't trying to manipulate him into taking me back.

I sucked in a deep breath. "Edward, I just wanted to thank you for getting us out of there. I hate to think what would have happened if you hadn't come when you did. And… I know that this is much more than I deserve from you."

He stood, not meeting my eyes, his hands twitching by his sides.

"I want you to know that I will be fine. _We_ will be fine," I said with conviction. I stepped forward and took his hand, opening it in front of me. I placed his ring in his palm and then looked up into his eyes. "I will raise this child in a way that will make you proud. And I will tell him that his father is an amazing man."

His mouth quirked up at one corner and he raised an eyebrow. "Him? You think it's a him?"

I smiled, not realizing what I'd said. "Maybe," I shrugged. "But I just want you to know that we will be fine, you don't owe us anything, and in Spain we can make a new life for ourselves," then I closed his fingers over the ring, reached up on the tips of my toes and kissed him on his stubbly cheek.

He stood there, staring at the hand that now held the ring and I walked out of the room.

We spent the day playing card games and even laughing a bit. Carlisle and Esme were lovely and generous hosts. They entertained us with stories of how they met and an incident involving Esme on a runaway scooter that left us howling in laughter. Every now and then I caught Edward watching me, but I never held his gaze. I wanted him to feel free. I didn't want him to see how hopelessly lovesick I still was, how I hung on every breath he took, how my stomach felt sick when I thought about how much I wanted him to forgive me and take me back.

That night when we said our goodbyes and expressed our deepest gratitude to Carlisle and Esme and climbed into the car, we were all quiet as we started out. But I was at peace. I felt like I had said what I needed to and though things hadn't turned out as I wanted, I had hope that the future would be bright and lovely… just in a different way than expected.

I didn't know how we would find jobs in Spain. But Alice spoke a bit of Spanish and I could learn. I envisioned a little boutique by the sea where Alice could make her own clothes and we could sell them to chic ladies on vacation. Perhaps we'd have a little home above the shop and Alice, the baby, and I would have our own little family.

Before long, I'd fallen asleep and was dreaming of the future. And though it was bright and beautiful, the dreams were tinged with the sadness of all that I had lost.

I woke to Edward shaking me, "Bella, we made it. We're in Spain."

I sat up straight and looked out the window. Everything was dark. "What? We are? Did I sleep the whole time? Why didn't you wake me?"

He smiled at me. "You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you till I knew we were safe."

I looked behind us and smiled to see Alice and the Rosenbergs all asleep against each other.

"Alice!" I said excitedly. "Alice, wake up!"

She rubbed her eyes, "What? What is it?"

"We're in Spain!"

"We are?" she squealed, waking up the Rosenbergs, who were every bit as excited as we were.

We spent the rest of the trip, laughing and excitedly watching out the window, trying to see our surroundings, though they really weren't much different than what we'd seen in France.

When we arrived in Barcelona, Edward took us to a little hotel by the water. The Rosenbergs had heard that there was an office of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee. They decided to set off and find it right away to see if they might be able to receive any help in getting settled, either in Barcelona or elsewhere. So Edward secured two rooms: one for Alice and me and one for himself.

He walked us to our room and carried our bags inside. Alice ran into the bathroom and I turned just as he was about to walk out the door to his room, which was just next door.

"Edward, I really can't thank you enough for what you've done for us."

He shrugged, holding the door frame and toeing the tiled floor.

"Will you go back home to New York now?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said, watching me guardedly.

I nodded. "Well, thank you. You'll let us know before you leave?"

He gave me a tight smile. "Yes, I will."

I smiled in reply and he turned to leave. When the door closed, I let out a breath of air and sat on the bed, closing my eyes and focusing on breathing, a tear rolling down my face. I felt the baby turn and when I looked down at my stomach there was a small bulge moving back and forth across my belly. I reached down and touched it, my heart full of love for my baby.

"We're going to make it, baby," I whispered, rubbing my belly.

Alice came out of the bathroom and looked around. "Did Edward leave?"

When I told her that he had she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"What?" I asked confused.

"Bella, that boy is completely enamored by you. If you can't see how in love with you he is, you're a fool," she said crossing her arms.

I frowned. "Alice, I don't know if that's true. And even if it is, it doesn't mean he trusts me."

She shook her head. "Okay, well, listen. You take a nap and I'm going to go out and get to know the neighborhood. I'll see what I can find out about work, maybe there's a restaurant that needs a waitress or something."

~~ 0 ~~

Over the next few days, Alice found work at a little seafood restaurant and the Rosenbergs got signed up to be relocated to America. We had found a little place to rent that wasn't far from Alice's work and we were scheduled to move into it in another week. I didn't have much to do and being 7 months pregnant, I wasn't able to find work. So I spent a lot of time walking around the neighborhood, working on my Spanish, and thinking.

I was getting ready to leave the hotel for a walk along the waterfront when there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, Edward stood in the doorway, looking anxious.

"Is everything okay?" I asked him.

"Yes, yes," he said. "I was just wondering if we could talk."

I swallowed nervously. "Of course. I was just going for a walk, would you like to join me?"

He nodded and I closed the door behind me. We walked side by side out of the hotel and onto the sidewalk. The sun was hot and it was nearly blinding on the water. People bustled everywhere, as we stepped onto the sand. We padded our way down the beach to a less crowded area, walking in surprisingly companionable silence.

"I'm leaving for New York on Saturday," he said.

"Oh?" I asked, my throat suddenly feeling tight.

"Yes, my boss wants me back to cover the war effort at home," he said, looking out at the water.

I could feel the loss already. "I see." With a sigh, I continued. "I wish you the best of luck and I'm happy that you will be with your family once again," I told him sincerely.

"Yes," he agreed. "It will be good to see my parents and Jasper again. And my dog," he said with a smile.

I laughed a little, remembering his love for his dog and how he missed taking her to the park.

He stopped walking and I turned around and looked at him questioningly.

"Are you happy here, Bella?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

I looked at him in confusion. "I… well, yes, it's very lovely here. And we can find work and have a good life. We can never tell you how grateful we are-"

"That's not what I mean. I mean," he stepped forward and his voice softened, "are you happy – here," he said as he placed his hand over my heart.

My breath caught and I felt warmth rush to my cheeks that had nothing to do with the summer sun.

"Because, Bella, this isn't working for me."

I frowned, feeling the sting of his rejection. _Hadn't we been through this?_ I thought I'd made it clear that I didn't expect anything of him. I opened my mouth to respond but he continued.

"It's meaningless, Bella. It's all meaningless. I don't want to live without you. Being without you these last months has been…" He shook his head. "It's been miserable."

I stared up at him in shock, trying to understand what he was saying.

"I guess I should be mad at you… and I was. Well, actually I was more hurt and confused," he said, his hand still pressing on my chest as I tried to keep my breath steady. "But I decided that it just doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters without you.

"And I was a fool, Bella. I should have listened to you. You asked me to get you out of France and I was an idiot. I wish to God that I had listened to you. Who knows if your mother would still be alive if I had. I was just so focused on that damn job and wanting the meaningless accolades."

I shook my head. "Edward, you can't blame yourself for that. God holds our lives; he decides when it's time for us to go."

But he cut me off. "I just have to get this out, Bella."

So I nodded for him to continue.

"I know that you felt trapped by your obligations to your family. You'd lost your father and your sister and your mother was terribly ill. I believe that you are sorry for what you did. I know that you have been trying to make it right and make sure I know you aren't demanding anything from me. But the truth is, I knew the possible consequences of making love to you. I knew and I didn't care. That's because I wanted to marry you. I still want to marry you. And I want children with you. And I am so thrilled about this baby that I can't even tell you."

I was in shock from everything he was telling me. How could he not be angry? And he was happy about the baby? A hopeful smile began to steal across my face.

"It took me some time to work this all through. I wanted to make sure that I wasn't really angry with you. Then on the trip you seemed like you were dismissing me. I thought maybe after all you didn't want me in your life. But I can't leave without telling you, without asking you once more."

I almost fainted when he reached in his pocket and pulled out the ring. He took my hand and looked deeply into my eyes, his own eyes pleading with me.

"Bella, please say you'll marry me. Be my wife, the mother of my children. I love you. I don't want to live without you."

I blinked back tears and swallowed the lump in my throat, unbelieving of how things had turned around. Just this morning I was looking forward to moving into a place with Alice and now… Edward loved me? I didn't have to think about it. I knew my answer. "Yes, yes, I will," I said, beginning to cry.

He smiled too through a sheen of tears on his eyes. He slipped the ring on my finger, where it would stay. Kneeling before me, he tenderly kissed my belly, then stood up again, touched my cheek, his hand sliding back around to cup my neck, while the other went to the small of my back and he kissed me. His lips were soft and warm and wet. I had missed this. I wrapped my arms around his neck and poured all my love into the kiss. The heat from it spread through my body and I was surprised at how rapidly my flesh remembered and how fiercely it wanted.

Suddenly, Edward grabbed my shoulders and pulled away. Taking my hand he began walking briskly back down the beach in the direction from which we came.

"Where are we going?" I asked breathlessly.

"We're doing this right," he said. "I'm taking you to a church and then I'm taking you back to my room." He looked over at me, his eyes sparkling. "We're not wasting another minute."

And we didn't.

_Fin_

~~ 0 ~~

**A/N****:** **First I want to thank LJ Summers, Bratty-Vamp, and Radar1230 for beta-ing this little story for me. Thank you so much for all your work helping me to make it better and for all your encouragement! You guys are awesome!**

**Thank you to all the readers so much for reading this little story. I did quite a bit of research before writing and attempted to be as historically accurate as I could be. Many of the events in the story actually happened, such as the stomping and protesting over German newsreels in the cinemas and guards arresting people because of it. In some instances I took artistic liberty, but they were in keeping with the general times and very well could have happened. Because I was writing a French story in English I had to make some compromises on vocabulary and terminology. I used French words occasionally and in some instances I had to make the best judgment as to the appropriate word to use since I had to balance the historical and linguistic natures of the story while still making it readable. I hope you enjoyed it! Leave me a review and let me know what you thought! Thanks again!**

**I'm entertaining the idea of doing a sequel or maybe some outtakes. Leave me a review and let me know what you think! Thanks again!**

**Terms****:**

Ausweis: A German pass/ID card that allowed freedom of circulation/travel.

American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee: A Jewish relief organization that cared for hundreds of thousands of Jews all over the world during World War II. They are still active in the world today.

**Some of the Sources Consulted****:**

France and the Second World War: Occupation, Collaboration and Resistance – http : / books (dot) google (dot) com / books?id=J3QJdqgisgMC

French Resistance Fighter: France's Secret Army – http : / books (dot) google (dot) com / books?id=ambUiuH5ooUC

Gertrude Stein's War – http : / www (dot) annemarielevine (dot) com / Gertrude_Steins_War_AnneMarieLevine (dot) pdf

Journalism, World War II – http : / www (dot) bookrags (dot) com / research / journalism-world-war-ii-aaw-03/

Occupied France: Collaboration and Resistance – http : / books (dot) google (dot) com / books?id=65rjIYDWXDoC

The 1940's Fashion – http : / 1940s (dot) org / fashion /

WWII Marseille Departure Flags – http : / gallery (dot) pictopia (dot) com /ap/gallery/341/photo/21445/?o=12


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